


scones batter and caked flour

by isabeIIa



Series: Osayachi [6]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Baking, F/M, Gen, OsaYachi Week, hitoka can’t bake, messes, osamu is amused
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:34:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27173902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isabeIIa/pseuds/isabeIIa
Summary: 1002 words of Hitoka trying, and failing, at something Osamu could do in a heartbeat
Relationships: Miya Osamu/Yachi Hitoka
Series: Osayachi [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1960555
Kudos: 16





	scones batter and caked flour

Hitoka crept out of bed, careful to not wake Osamu, and out into the hall of his apartment, silently shutting the door behind her. She tiptoed down the hallway and into the kitchen, and when she knew she was in the clear, she started her mission. She put on Osamu’s too-big-on-her apron, and wondered around the kitchen, picking out the ingredients. Osamu’s kitchen was always stocked with supplies and recipes.

Osamu woke to find the other half of his bed empty, something that was usual, something that happened so rarely, that he couldn’t help but think that Hitoka was up to no good. He followed the sounds of clattering items, the tapping of footsteps and the humming of Hitoka.

She hummed to herself as she danced around the kitchen to the beat of her own music, chucking in the ingredients as they were needed. Mixing and stirring and adding and baking. It was until she heard the clearing of a throat behind her that she was pulled out of her own little word.

"Hitoka.."

Hitoka slowly turned on the spot. "Yes, Osamu?" She tried to muster up the most innocent voice she could, but she couldn't hide her amusement.

He tried not to show his own amusement, "What have a told you about cooking in my apartment?"

"Don't do it..?" 

He smiled, "Yes, now please, step away from.." He looked over her shoulder, "Whatever that's supposed to be."

"Osamu! This is scones batter! See!" She gestured madly at a caked-in-flour recipe on the bench, next to her 'scones batter'. He advanced towards the mess she made. "I'll help you make it properly."

"Thank you!" She started dusting off the recipe, making it readable again, and handed it to Osamu. “So far I’ve done steps 1 through 5, and I don’t think it’s working out the way it’s supposed to.” She pouted up at him as he read the recipe, then looked towards the supposed scones batter.

“You skipped step 2, Hitoka.” She looked up at him in shock and disbelief, then her facial expression changed, she was thinking, then realisation spread across her face. “This isn’t as redeemable as I originally thought. We’ll have to bin this.”

She looked from him to her batter, then back to him. “Are you sure?” She looked up at him with her big, glossy eyes. “Are you positive that it isn’t redeemable?”

He placed his hand on her shoulder, “Yes, I am sure, I’m the professional baker here.”

She pouted, “Alright, if you say so.” He picked up the bowl and tipped it into the bin nearby, then placed the bowl on the sink. “We’ll start over completely. I’ll do most, you can be my cute little assistant.” He gently grabbed her face with his now covered-in-flour hands, and placed a small kiss on her forehead.

She giggled and smiled up at him. “Ok Mr. Miya, tell me what to do and don’t do.”

“Well, first things first, you don’t wear my apron.”

With a look of innocence on her face, she pulled the string of the apron behind her back undone, and slipped it over her head. He reached out and she passed it to him. “There you go, Mr Miya.”

“Thank you, Assistant Yachi.” He put the apron on and tied it up. “Now first step, preheat the oven to 200, you forgot that as well.” She hastily turned the oven to 200. “Next, we need a bowl, I’ll grab that.” He reaches down into one of his doorless cupboards and took out a bowl, placing it on the cleanest part of the bench. “We’ll need the self-raising flour, not the plain flour, not yet at least. Here, pass me the plain flour and I’ll put it aside.”

She turned around and picked up the bag of flour, however, as she brought it over the bowl, it slipped, dropped, and flour burst out, settling nicely, all over the floor, the bench, and most importantly, Osamu.

"You're hopeless." He commented.

"I know." She replied.

"But at least you're mine."

"Yes, I am."

“Now we better clean this all up, and that enough baking for you I think.”

“Aww Osamu! I wanna bake with you though!” She looked up at him, mocking pouting. “Pretty please can I help you.”

“No, Hitoka, you might set the kettle on fire again.”

“Hey! That was one time!”

“One time that smoked out my neighbours and almost burnt my kitchen down.”

“Well.. okay I’ll help you clean and then I’ll go clean myself up.”

He smiled down at her, “Good.”

It took them longer than expected to clean the kitchen, but they had many laughs while doing so. Osamu slipped on the flour, Hitoka fell into the cupboard, and they were both soaked in water after the dirty bowl reflected water at both of them.

Soon, they were both finished and Hitoka went to the bathroom to shower while Osamu was baking, not scones, no, they had had too much go wrong while trying to bake them that Osamu decided he’d make brownies instead.

It was an easy process, brownies, one he enjoyed. The smell of the separate ingredients, the smell of the combined ingredients, the smell of the brownies baking in the oven, and then finally, the smell of the finished product. 

Hitoka also loved the smell, it was something she adored. She loved brownies, but one of the things she loved the most about Osamu’s brownies, is that they were made by him. She walked out into the small dining room of Osamu’s apartment, and smiled as she watched Osamu place the brownies in the fridge.

This was a sight she could get used to, a big strong man in the kitchen, one who’s favourite pastime was baking. This was something she never wanted to end, something she always wanted to have, and as she looked down at the ring on the fourth finger, on her left hand, she knew it was one that’ll never, ever leave her.


End file.
